


Breathe

by FairyLights101



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Depression, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 06:44:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11435343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyLights101/pseuds/FairyLights101
Summary: Shirabu hugged his legs close, stared at the navy sheets, numbly fixated on the little auburn hairs that dotted it, caught the light of the morning sun. Blinked slowly, the burn in his eyes a dim reminder of life, of existing. He sighed. Reached out. Brushed the hair off the bed. One that would certainly only be replaced by many more. His hand went limp on the bed, the position uncomfortable, but he didn’t do anything. Just stared at it. At the nicks along his fingers, at how it lay there, half-curled, stark against the dark sheets.Bad day.





	Breathe

Shirabu hugged his legs close, stared at the navy sheets, numbly fixated on the little auburn hairs that dotted it, caught the light of the morning sun. Blinked slowly, the burn in his eyes a dim reminder of life, of existing. He sighed. Reached out. Brushed the hair off the bed. One that would certainly only be replaced by many more. His hand went limp on the bed, the position uncomfortable, but he didn’t do anything. Just stared at it. At the nicks along his fingers, at how it lay there, half-curled, stark against the dark sheets. 

_ Bad day.  _

So bad it had been impossible to get out of the bed. To emerge from the cocoon of blankets that had been too hot at times, too much effort to even kick those off when that happened. To even get up and get water, to get food to fill his unresponsive stomach. To breathe sometimes. Thankfully not a day he’d had to work. He wasn’t sure if he’d have made it in if it had been. Then again, he’d always thought that, and he’d always dragged his ass in before, to work, to class, out to the store, forcing thin-lipped smiles to his face, straining for a tone of normalcy to weave into his voice. Seeking, blindly, for a sense of stability, fleeting in his fragile fingers. But, now, it was gone, shadows sucking at his body, leaving him empty as he lay there, slowly but surely becoming one with the sheets. 

Not quick enough. 

Doors opened. Closed. Footsteps echoed through the apartment. Fingers brushed his shoulder. He twitched, glanced up. 

Goshiki hovered over him, dark eyes narrowed, uncertain, but a faint smile twitching the corners of his mouth up. Shy. Scared. “Hey there,” he whispered. 

It left a strange feeling in Shirabu’s chest, heavy, unbearable, a familiar weight even more draining than usual.  _ He shouldn’t be this soft, this quiet.  _ But the noise only grated on him, and Goshiki knew him well. Too well. Enough that, when things were bad and the curtains were drawn all throughout the house and only silence remained, clawing him apart from the inside out, tearing open channels for the vicious thoughts to burrow their way in, greedily sinking into his flesh, his voice settled, became a mere whisper compared to normal. 

“Need anything?” 

Shirabu opened his mouth. Only a rasp came out, throat too raw, uncooperative, no words quite enough. 

Goshiki nodded slowly, twisted, returned with a cold water bottle in his hand. Slowly, he helped Shirabu sit up, bones creaking, muscles aching, and let their bodies lean into one another as he cracked the water bottle open, pressed it to Shirabu’s lips, as though he was a baby, like he was incompetent, utterly unable to do anything himself. And, perhaps, that was true. But he managed to swallow, clearing away a dryness in his throat he hadn’t noticed before. He managed about half before he pulled back, shook his head. 

Goshiki set it aside, carded his fingers through Shirabu’s hair, the touch familiar, soft. Enough that his eyes fluttered shut as he pressed into the warmth of Goshiki’s body, his fingers, and tried to breathe. “Is it still on?” 

Shirabu’s arms drifted back, tightened at his sides.  _ Don’t make it come off.  _ Because that was the one thing keeping him sane, the tightness in his ribs, the way his breath caught, the shallowness something to focus on. 

“Come on,” Goshiki whispered, “It’ll be okay. Promise.” 

Shirabu turned his head to the side. Raised his arms, feeling the pull, relishing in the compression while it lasted. Goshiki’s hands worked quickly, scattering warmth across his skin as he stripped Shirabu of the shirt, left him shivering in the cool air in only his binder, and then his fingers were there too, rolling it up, tugging gently, freeing Shirabu from his binder. 

The next breath was a rush of fresh air, deep, and he shivered, closed his eyes tight, forced his thoughts anywhere but on his chest. To the warm fingers that trailed across his skin, the soft fabric that smelled intimately of Goshiki, to the soft lips that pressed sugary kisses to his cheeks until he opened his eyes, stared at his partner. Goshiki smiled softly, brushed Shirabu's greasy hair from his eyes. Shirabu ducked his head. Leaned forward, hid himself away from Goshiki’s gaze the best he could, fingers twitching up to curl against Goshiki’s bare chest. 

There were fingers dancing along his back, creeping up, hesitant, and Goshiki nudged him back, didn’t allow him to linger in the crook of his neck despite the hesitation in his hands. They stared at each other for a long while, Goshiki’s eyes searching, desperate, Shirabu’s blank. 

When Shirabu turned his face away, this time into Goshiki’s hand, he didn’t make Shirabu pull away. Just cradled his face with one hand, let the other trail through his hair tugging at the knots and tangles that had gathered there with infinite care. Shirabu shivered once more. Bit his tongue and waited. “Kenjirou… Kencchi… do you want to talk?” 

His throat was almost too thick to swallow, but he managed, closed his eyes against Goshiki’s palm. No amount of slow, ragged breaths were enough. But, truly, he was just too tired to care. “I just… want to go. I… don’t really know if I want to live.” 

The fingers on his face twitched. Went slack. But Goshiki didn’t move his face, didn’t turn him, and Shirabu sat there, frozen, uncertain. Twisted after a moment. Goshiki’s eyes were on him, soft, damp, and a fragile smile tugged at his lips. His hands slipped down, curled around Shirabu’s body, and Goshiki scooted closer, enough that they could press against each other, Goshiki’s forehead against his. 

“Kencchi…” he whispered, “You… I know what you mean. How you feel. It’s… it’s scary, but- but things are going to be okay. I promise. You… you’re not alone in this. You’re not. I’m right here, a-and… and I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, to the moon and back, love every little part of you, n-no matter how much you hate it, and- and… Oh, Kencchi...” 

Shirabu nodded slowly. Normally, there’d be a burn in his eyes, tears streaking his cheeks to match Goshiki’s - but he was numb, frozen there in his arms, barely able to feel the warmth of his body. Barely able to feel much beyond the bone-deep ache of exhaustion. There was no energy, no willpower to do anything but close his eyes. 

He sighed. 

Slumped into Goshiki. 

Let his partner ease him onto the bed, their bodies curled up close together, foreheads still pressed against one another. Those strong arms were nice and secure around him, warm, familiar. A place he could sink into and find some semblance of security, a crack in the shell of frigid loneliness and pain that seemed too thick to break otherwise. 

“Kencchi?” Goshiki whispered after a moment. There was an edge of uncertainty to his voice, a falter that made Shirabu’s heart clench. Shirabu hummed. “I… you need to go see a doctor.” 

There was truth in that. Too much. In all honesty, he’d needed to get an appointment weeks, months ago. But there had been too much to do, not enough energy, and simply too much apathy to muster the urgency. Always an  _ “I’ll do it later”,  _ only “later” never ended up coming, swept away by everything and nothing all at once. 

But, with Goshiki’s voice trembling in his ear, the quiet sniffles that broke through the silence, the way his fingers twitched along Shirabu’s arms, tightening, clinging to him desperately, as though, if he took his eyes or hands off Shirabu for one second, he could disappear - forever - something slipped in, fragile, fleeting. 

_ I can’t even tell if I want to stay.  _

Because there had been too many doubts, too many terrible thoughts - about leaving Goshiki, cutting him away so he wouldn’t have to deal with the mess he’d unknowingly signed himself up for, about ruining his body, one step at a time, about disappearing forever.  _ He deserves better. He deserves me trying to get better.  _

Shirabu bit his cheek, swallowed. “... Yeah.” He licked his lips. Cracked his eyes open. Saw the already damp pillowcase beneath Goshiki’s cheek. The quiver in his lips. “I… Help me look tomorrow?” 

Goshiki’s lips quirked up. He nodded. His fingers tightened on Shirabu’s arm and back once more. “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and hit me up at [tumblr](http://fairylights101writes.tumblr.com/)


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